Page 33 of Rake in Disguise (Wicked Widows’ League #33)

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Blythe woke to an empty room, which was not unusual because she did so every day. What was different was that Orlando hadn’t wakened her with a kiss to tell her goodbye. He had simply left.

Even more disheartening was that when they retired, he claimed to be completely exhausted and barely kissed her.

Even when there had been no intimacy, he was always affectionate, but something occurred that had caused him to withdraw.

She had asked if anything was wrong but all he said was that there were matters on his mind.

Something had changed last night and Blythe did not know what it could be.

An uneasiness settled into her bones, and near panic in her heart.

Had Orlando finally grown tired of her?

They never established how long this arrangement would last, and she was not even certain if lovers did decide on such things, but it had been two months since he started sharing her bed and maybe that had been enough and he was done.

But she was not. Blythe needed Orlando and couldn’t begin to contemplate what her life would be like if he were gone.

The very idea brought tears to her eyes.

This was ridiculous of course. She was overwrought for no reason, or so she tried to tell herself.

Just because there had been an oddity of one night did not mean that he intended to end their association.

But what if that was exactly what it meant?

Unable to remain alone in her brother’s home, Blythe called for the carriage and had the driver take her to Matron Manor. Certainly, someone there could convince her that she was overreacting.

Thankfully it was Elizabeth who greeted her and after tea had been delivered and behind closed doors for the privacy she needed, Blythe confessed everything to her friend, who already knew what had happened in Brussels.

“Does he know that you are in love with him?”

“No, of course not.” Blythe had only come to that realization herself.

“Why haven’t you told him?” Elizabeth asked.

“Because ours is a…we are lovers…he has never mentioned…”

“Neither have you.”

“No, of course not.”

“And, you have made it clear that you value your independence and freedom.”

“I did not want him to think that I would expect marriage because that often sends a bachelor fleeing.”

Elizabeth chuckled. “In that, you are correct. But, as a widow, I do not think he would have that fear. It is not as if he ruined you.”

Ah, but he had. At least for any other man.

Elizabeth tilted her chin and studied Blythe. “A curiosity. If Dr. Valentine were to ask you to marry him, would you?”

“He would not.”

“That is not an answer. Would you accept or deny him?”

Her heart pounded against her chest at the very idea of such a question coming from Orlando.

A part of her want to recoil because she did not want to be property again.

The other part of her would accept because she loved him that much.

If the question ever came, which she did not expect it to, she would either need to give up Orlando or her freedom.

“You need to determine what that answer would be and then take the advice that I am about to impart.”

“What?” Blythe asked.

“In these matters the only way to ever know for certain is to sit down and ask. Nothing irritates me more than couples who do not speak from the heart and spend their time wondering what the other may be thinking.”

“I did not speak from the heart in Brussels,” she reminded Elizabeth.

“You were not free to do so then. Your husband was alive. There is nothing to prevent you from doing so now.” She stood and shook out her skirts. “It is either that or spend your days sick with worry. That is up to you, Blythe.”

She had just been dismissed by her dearest friend.

“Decide on what you truly want then tell Dr. Valentine,” Elizabeth said again. “Now, I am off to a luncheon. Let me know what you decide.”

Her friend breezed out of the room, leaving Blythe very much alone with a decision that terrified her.

* * *

Orlando sat at his desk, staring at the documents before him but not seeing anything.

He had been content with the ways things were with him and Blythe. He had not mentioned love because he had not wanted to lose her, but it was not good enough anymore, that conclusion he had reached last night, and the reason he had gotten little sleep.

He had lain there and rehearsed various speeches but feared that each resulted in her rejecting him in favor of her freedom and independence.

He also had nothing that he could offer Blythe other than his heart. Was that enough?

He loved her as much as any man could love a woman, but his funds were limited and his home was not adequate for a lady.

She also valued her freedom, which she has mentioned more times that he could count. Did she fear that he would want to take that away from her?

Should he make certain she understood that nothing else would change and that he admired and loved her more now than he had in Brussels.

Yet, with his proposal of marriage meant reduced circumstances for her.

He also could not continue in this matter and as much as he feared what her response may be, he had to confront her about their future, and spent the rest of the day preparing, finding the most eloquent words possible to describe how he felt about her, and hoped that it was enough.

Now, if only the terror would leave his being, all would be well, but the fear of saying the wrong thing built with each step he took toward her brother’s home, his panic growing.